


A Nightmare For Some. For Others, a Saviour I Come.

by Merry_Wonderland



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Character Death In Dream, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, It's really detailed and gross, Like really fucking gory, Murder, No Smut, You've been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:25:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merry_Wonderland/pseuds/Merry_Wonderland
Summary: Edward Nygma's Hallucination won't stop harassing him, tempting him, convincing him, telling him he needs to kill Kristin Kringle. Ed knows he would never hurt Kristin, she is the love of his life, but he can feel the temptation bubbling up inside him...





	A Nightmare For Some. For Others, a Saviour I Come.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfley/gifts).



> This was written for faelainte.tumblr for the Gotham Buddy Exchange (It’s like a secret Santa, but for Gotham fans!) This is the first story I’ve written in a few years, so I'm a little out of practise, but I really hope you enjoy!  
> Feel free to give some criticism/advice/reviews!  
> Set around S2 E4 "Strike Force".  
> Happy Halloween!

* * *

_I weaken all men for hours each day._

_I show you strange visions while you are away._

_I take you by night, by day take you back,_

_None suffer to have me, but do from my lack_ _…_

_What am I?..._

* * *

 

 

Ed stood in his living room, his tired eyes strained as he stared at himself in the mirror. The man looked like him, but wasn’t. He’s seen him before, but every time he did, he never recognised the man in front of him who had his name and face, as himself. This other him was full of malicious passion, and almost always had a devious smirk to match, and his stance was dangerously nonchalant for the conversation at hand. In comparison, Ed looked pale, weak, and just plain dorky.

 

“Killing Doherty was a one-time thing.”  Ed sternly told him as he pointed at him accusingly, his tone hushed to as not to wake Kristin sleeping a few feet away in his bed.

 

His reflection chuckled, _“You sure about that?”_

 

“Of course I’m sure.” Ed said matter-of-factly, “Anyway, Doherty was an accident… kind of.” He admitted, “I saved Kristin from him. He was a bad person.”

 

The other leaned against the dresser, staring closer at Ed. _“What_ _about from you?_ _”_ Ed stood back agape, hand rising to this chest in shock, “I would never hurt Kristin.”

 _“Not_ _yet._ _”_

 

“Not ever!”  Ed demanded with a harsh stare, but he looked over to Kristin with uncertainty. She was smiling and murmuring as she slept, tossing over lazily to the other side of the bed.

  
_“I_ _magine it, seeing the spark of life drain from her eyes as she closes them for the last time, the purple in her lips as she takes her last breath-_ _”_ Ed continue to look at Kristin has he talked, fixated on her green outlined silhouette breathing.  In… Out… In… out…

 

 _“- As she pleads you to spare_ _her. All those feelings she ever had of disappointment, anger, and rejection towards you would be forgotten. In that moment, you would be her everything. Her life source, her death sentence; her judge, jury, and executioner-_ _”_

“Enough!” Ed yelled back at the mirror, only to find his true reflection looking back at him. His other self gone, replaced with his own dishevelled, tired and sunken face.

He glared at the mirror as he waited for the reflection to come back, so he could give him a piece of his mind, when a gentle, croaky voice broke the silence.

 

“Ed?”

Surprised, he turned to see Kristin slumped up, still half asleep with the look of concern on her face. She gave a small smile of comfort and she patted the empty side of the bed. “You okay? Come to bed.” she slurred happily. Her heavy-lidded eyes closed slowly and she snuggled back under the covers, waiting for Ed to return.

Ed glanced back at the mirror before heading back to bed. A small smile creeping onto his face as he climbed into his bed next to Kristin. His mid was still racing with thoughts, but the warmth of the bed made him feel safe as he slid next to Kristin’s equally warm body.

“I’m fine.” He told her, although he heard the hesitancy in his voice. Kristin was too tired to notice as she wrapped an arm around his waist and made her way into the crook of his arm. As she fell asleep, he stroked her hair repeatedly, and began to think about how ridiculous the thought of hurting Kristin was.

‘I would never hurt her.’ He thought. Kristin’s sugary sweet perfume swirled into Ed’s nose as he rested his head on the pillow. “You are my everything, Miss Kringle.” He whispered gently as he kissed the top of her head.

His stroking slowly decreased as he also began to fall asleep, but that thought still wouldn’t escape him. _“_ _You can do it,_ _”_ it said in the back of his head _,_ _“I_ _t would be as easy as Doherty_ _”_. Ed tried to force the thought to vanish, trying to force himself to just fall asleep.

 

 _“_ _You need to do this. You deserve it. Didn_ _’t it feel good when you saw Doherty’s body_ _lying there on the road, cold and bloody? Imagine Kristin_ _’_ _s own bloody, bruised body, her soft skin turning cold and white; a real life sleeping beauty_ _…”_

 

“Stop.” Ed grunted painfully, squeezing his eyes tighter. He shoved his head deeper into the pillow and wrapped the other half of the pillow over his ear, hoping to block out the voices in his head.

 

 _“_ _Except you_ _’re not her knight in shining armour_ _. You_ _’_ _re not the prince she was waiting for; You never were._ _”_ The words hissed at Ed, _“_ _You_ _’re. The._ _Dragon!_ _”_

 

“No!” Ed opened his eyes and sprung out of bed, pacing back and forward. “Get out. Get out of here. You need to leave. Get out now.” Ed repeated quick and quietly, lightly smacking the sides of his head, praying that it would magically make the thoughts -make _him_ \- disappear.

 

He quietly made his way over to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Normally he’d more than happily sip on a coffee in the middle of the night, but caffeine was not what he needed, he was already jittery and on edge as it was. He needed something calming, something that would hopefully knock him out of consciousness.  
The ‘accident’ with Doherty had been over two or so weeks ago, yet still, every day a part of him wanted to relive that moment. Every day he thought of it, and it was driving him crazy.

 

“I’m not crazy,” Ed muttered to himself, “I just need to calm down. It’s fine. It’s all okay. Nothing to worry about.” His voice was convincing, but Ed had a nervous tightness in his chest that continued to worry him.

 

He put the kettle on the stovetop and the teabag in the mug, and impatiently tapped on the table with his fingertips as he waited for it to boil. Once the kettle whistled, and the tea was made, he shakily brought the mug to his lips. If anyone were to see him now, they would think he was an addict having withdrawals. Maybe he was. Addicted to the adrenaline. The blood. The power; the power to be taken seriously for once in his miserable life.  
He took a deep sigh, taking a sip of tea before shaking his head in disbelief, “Why Kristin?” He asked the thoughts in his head, “I don’t want to hurt her.”

 

 _“Of course you do.”_ His other self appeared, sitting on a stool across the wooden kitchen bench fiddling with a kitchen knife in his hand. _“You and me, we’re the s_ _ame, whether you like it or not._ _”_ He explained, _“_ _I am you and you are me, like two sides of the same coin. We have the same thoughts and feelings, we just deal with them differently. But I_ _’_ _m here to tell you not to fight it; you want to do this, and you will give in sooner or later._ _”_

 

Ed silently stared at him from behind the mug. What was he supposed to say to that? The bastard was just so darn adamant… but was he wrong? Maybe not entirely. He had to agree, since killing Doherty, the temptation grew stronger, and as much as Ed didn’t want to admit, he will do it again; he could feel it constantly bubbling up inside him.

 

“Maybe.” He finally admitted aloud. “But please…” He gently placed the mug down and pleaded with the other, “Not Kristin.”

 

A cheeky smile spread across the other’s face and he shrugged, _“No promises_ _._ _”_

 

Ed looked away, defeated. He couldn’t understand. He was sure there was no part of him that wanted to hurt Kristin at all, so why was it so hard to convince his other self of that?

 

He quickly sculled the last of his tea, returned the milk to the fridge, and placed the mug into the sink before shuffling into bed once more. The tea certainly didn’t help him feel any calmer, but he was determined to stay in bed this time and sleep.

 

Once he laid in bed, he glanced over to the kitchen where he could no longer see the other. Slightly relieved, but still anticipating him to show up again, Ed rolled over and placed his arm around Kristin’s waist, like a frightened child clinging to their teddy bear. He tried to focus on her gentle breathing, hoping that this time he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Ed’s eyes shot open with a gasp. It felt like he had just emerged from underwater after drowning for ages. The urge was too overpowering. Ed thought he was stronger than this, but he could feel his heart beating with anticipation as he looked at his shaking hands. He could finally breathe. “I have to do this.” He admitted to himself, “I _want_ to do this.” A wide, malicious grin appeared on his face. Something in his mind had snapped. Perhaps his talk with the other had had quite the effect on him.

 

He no longer wanted to hold back.

 

He excitedly flipped the covers off the bed and climbed himself on top of Kristin’s sleeping body. He placed a knee on either side of her hips and he straddled the woman he loved as he jolted her awake. Kristin didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening before her mouth was tightly covered by Ed’s sweaty palm. He didn’t want to give her any chance to ask what he was doing, because he didn’t know himself. How does one explain to a potential victim the urge to murder? Ed didn’t understand his actions any more than Kristin did, but he needed to do it, and the anticipation excited him greatly.

 

“Now, now.” He cooed calmly. She glared at him confused and scared, like a deer in headlights, or a fly in a web watching the spider close in for the kill. This was the first time Kristin had ever looked at him with fear, and Ed _loved_ it. Finally, this was what he deserved after all those years of torment and ridicule from all those who called themselves his ‘friends’; it may not be respect, but fear was close enough. His free hand gently worked its way from the slender curves of her hips, along her waist, following the bumps of her ribs under the thin silk nightie, gliding gently over her breast and towards her chest, until he reached her neck.

 

Kristin began to wriggle and thrash about once Ed’s gentle, shaking hand harshly gripped around her fragile neck. Her screams were muffled under Ed’s palm, and before long, were taken over by breathless whimpers. She clawed at his face to no avail. It was clear Ed was focused on one thing, and one thing only. He watched Kristin’s wide and scared eyes intently as she used them to plead with him. ‘The other was right.’ Ed thought to himself, ‘Right now, I am all she sees. I am her everything.’

 

 _‘_ _Please, Ed,_ _’_ Her eyes begged, _‘_ _Don_ _’t hurt me_ _._ _’_

 

Ed gripped tighter. A crazy smile was etched on his face, teeth bearing like a hyena.

 

He could feel her throat’s minute movements as she struggled to breathe. He could feel the muscles snapping and creaking as they gave way under the pressure of his fingers, He could feel her veins bulging as her blood flow restricted. He looked down at his hands and the white indents his fingers made on her skin; he was focusing all his brute force into her neck.

 

Kristin’s hands flailed around for anything, but gained no solid grip. She continued to pathetically claw at his face, then his shoulders, his arms, and slowly, her attempts lessened as her body became limp and stopped moving at all.

 

He continued to tightly wring her neck for the next few seconds, not wanting the current mix of bliss and excitement rushing through his body to disappear. He closed his eyes and sighed a deep breath of satisfaction. He was caught off guard when a slow, albeit almost sarcastic clapping came from behind him.

 

 _“Well done.”_ His other self said, _“I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you.”_

 

“Go away.” Ed deeply growled, staying in position atop of Kristin. “You’re ruining the moment.”

 

The other appeared next to the bed. Disgruntled by his presence, Ed opened his eyes only to see the other holding the kitchen knife for him to take. Ed looked him in the eyes, and instantly knew.

 

_“The moment’s not over yet.”_

 

Ed took the knife and stared at its blade. It looked like it had been recently sharpened. He watched his warped reflection as he studied the blade and considered where to start first.

 

 _“I can flutter and take your breath away. I can take a beating, but do not bruise. If I stopped you would be sure to lose._ _Every day I am with you. What am I?_ _”_

 

Ed smiled malevolently, “The heart.”

 

As someone who dabbled in autopsies and dealing with the dead in general, Ed decided to approach this with a little finesse and professionalism. He sliced the string straps of Kristin’s nightie and slowly peeled away the fabric to reveal her uncovered chest. There was no doubt Ed found her extremely attractive, Miss Kringle was beautiful from the day he first laid eyes on her. But seeing her exposed like this had nothing to do with sex or attraction, but rather an appreciation. Lightly penetrating the skin, he softly glided the blade’s tip from one nipple to another. Right now, he saw Kristin like a piece of modern art, like a canvas ready to be painted.

 

 _“Christ, you’re only going to cut her, n_ _ot display her in an art museum._ _”_ The other exclaimed.

 

“Shut up.” Ed replied harshly and glared at the other, “Let me do this.” He growled, “Myself.”

 

His other self shrugged and disappeared once Ed looked away. He was now alone and left to his own devices. He took one more satisfied sigh before placing the tip of the blade in the middle of Kristin’s collar bones, and slowly jabbed it deeper into her skin, and he watched as her rich blood appeared in droplets, like red stars against a white sky. Once the knife was at least a third of the way in, the droplets collected in the crevasses of her bones, creating a small pool. The blade scraped against her chest bones as he roughly dragged the knife downwards between her breasts, her ribs, and to her navel. Blood gushed down both sides of her body as her chest and stomach were sliced in half.

 

Ed sat up straight and viewed his work. He was surprised at the lack of emotion he felt; the lack of passion. Perhaps it felt too much like being at work, he thought. Perhaps he had to make this a little more fun…

 

He lent down and pressed his nose against the side of her neck, and he smelt the lingering perfume of- what was it? Cinnamon & French vanilla. Miss Kringle had always gone for the more sweeter smells. He took in a slow, deep breath. His lips made a trail of kisses up past her cheek and he gave her one last gentle kiss on the lips.

“Goodbye, Miss Kringle.” He whispered. His hands worked their way back up to her breasts to caress them. They were soaked in blood as they wandered over and around her nipples, and every now and again, dipping into the cut open crevasse of her torso. He decided to cut a little more so he could fully open and see Kristin in her purest form.  
Seeing her insides was so much more exhilarating than Ed could’ve imagined. Being able to see what made her tick, what made her the person she was; like opening a computer to see the connecting wires. Ed lightly stroked one of her exposed ribs in awe, “Fascinating.” he muttered.

 

In a last attempt of affection, he took the knife and carved a jagged love heart just above her left breast, akin to a teenager carving their and their lover’s initials into a tree; but in Ed’s mind, _this_ was much more romantic.

 

He closed his eyes, savouring the moment for as long as he could. The smell of cinnamon lingered in the air, mixed with the copper tang of blood. He could feel it dripping from his fingers back down to Kristin’s open, pale chest. It had soaked through his pyjama pants and top, turning the light blue and white material into a deep rich red.

 

When he opened his eyes, he realised his surroundings were different.  
“Wha-?” He spun around, now slightly recognising the extremely sterile room. He was standing in the GCPD morgue.

“How- Why am I here?” He asked aloud. It wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened to him, nor was this the first time something like this had happened, but it was always disorientating. He looked down and saw no blood on his hands or pyjamas, in fact, he was as clean as a whistle, and dressed in his usual work clothes.

 

His nose suddenly crinkled at the smell. The sweet cinnamon was gone, and was replaced with overpowering cleaning chemicals, pathetically mixed with a hint of tangy lemon. The morgue was unusually clean and empty, and was much more sterile than Ed remembered.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Ed to notice Kristin laying in the centre of the room on a slab, covered with only a thin white sheet. Ed’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store when he spotted beside her on a surgeon’s tray, a small collection of autopsy tools. The one that took Ed’s fancy the most was the electric bone saw laying there waiting for him. He walked over and, with a crazy look in his eye, he smiled widely as he pressed the power button and watched it whir to life. He stared at the circular blade spinning, transfixed and giddy with excitement; it was intoxicating.

 

He peeled the sheet completely off her corpse and discarded it on the floor. She was still cut open, but was no longer bleeding as intensely as she had before. He had no worries of anyone coming in and seeing him or seeing the mess he was about to make.

 

The metal noise of the blade gave Ed goose bumps as he turned it on once more. Lightly, he pressed the spinning blade against her cold neck, aiming for the line of bruises he had made earlier. the skin began to split open, and the blood trickled out before being flung away, spraying whatever was in its path, which happened to be Ed. The blood splattered onto his suit and face, and Ed stopped to wipe his glasses before continuing.  
“That wasn’t very nice, Miss Kringle.” He told her casually as he put his blood smeared glasses back on. “I think I need to show you some manners.” He said more darkly.

He brought the blade to life once more and harshly slammed it back into the slash in her neck, and pressed down as hard as he could with determination.

Through the handle, he felt the vibration of the machine, as well as each individual rip of tendons and muscles of her neck that the jagged blades ripped though. The blood sprayed all over his hair, clothes, and glasses, but was too in the moment to care. He worked his way around the front of her neck, until her head began to hang slightly off the table. He imagined this is what it’d be like to be a lumberjack cutting down a tree.  
Her neck began to split of its own accord, and he could see the opening of her throat; a dark, deep cavern dripping with blood. Her beautiful long hair hung over the edge of the slab and started to weigh down her head even further. Before long, Ed reached the spinal cord. He decided to switch the small circular bone saw for a more traditional bone saw, and he roughly sawed through the last part of her neck, back and forward, grinding down the last bit of bone until finally snapping through it. Kristin’s head detached from her body, dropped, and rolled along the morgue floor, coming to a stop in the corner of the room. The bouncing and rolling had distorted her face into what could be interpreted as an expression of distress staring back at Ed.

 

Ed walked over to the head, and picked it up to hold it at eye level and inspect his work, looking into Kristin’s now open eyes. Those blue eyes were now dull and grey, and filled with sadness. But to Ed, her sacrifice was not in vain. She had a purpose, and that purpose was to help Ed become the man he was meant to be.

 

 _“How did it feel_ _?_ _”_ The other stood behind him and admired Ed’s work. He was proud.

 

“Beautiful.”

 

* * *

 

Ed opened his eyes once more with a gasp. He found himself laying down in his bed, clammy with sweat. He could feel his heart pounding. The Gotham morning sun shone through the window and hit him in the eyes, and it took him a few seconds to regain his composure. As he rubbed his tired eyes with a yawn, he remembered the contents of his dream, and he whipped his head around to see Kristin sleeping peacefully next to him, lightly snoring with a tiny smile on her face.

Tears began welling up in his eyes as he stared at her; he was about to cry. Whether from relief or frustration, he wasn’t sure. ‘Was it a nightmare?’ he thought, not really sure what to think about it. ‘It was so… real.’ He lightly stroked her face to make sure that she really was there, that she was alive and breathing. Hallucinations was a thing Ed knew all too well.

 _‘_ _Perhaps it was a premonition._ _’_ Speak of the Devil. Ed was startled slightly by his flippant pain-in-the-ass hallucination sitting at the edge of his bed. Ed closed his eyes, and sat into a sitting position, ready to confront him.

Sitting up, Ed suddenly noticed his painfully obvious morning erection. He quickly covered his bulge with the covers, but the other has already noticed.  
_‘Looks like your ‘nightmare’ may not have been a nightmare after all.’_ The other playfully teased with a huge mocking grin. “Shut up.” Ed told him sternly, but clearly quite embarrassed. How could such a disturbing dream cause _that?_

 

He sighed. He needed a coffee. Now.

“ _I suppose you could say you’d kill for a coffee right now.”_ The other smiled cheekily.

 

“Could you just go away for, like, a day?” Ed asked him bluntly.

 

His other self pouted, _‘I can’t always control it, y’know. I only appear when you need me to.’_

 

“Well I don’t need you right now,” Ed told him, "so good-bye.”

 

 _“I_ _only reflect what you don't want to see, I only appear when you disagree._

_Although I am often ignored, knowledge is what I tell. So, if you are to listen,_

_You and I will never fail-_

_What am I?_ _”_

 

“Conscience.” Ed answered instantly, clearly growing more annoyed at the other’s presence. “Are my morals so bad that _you_ are my voice of reasoning?”

 

 _“_ _Not so much voice of reasoning, but voice of truth. I know who you are, Edward Nygma, who you're supposed to be. Now you have to see it and become him!_ _”_

 

Ed looked down at his fidgeting hands and pictured them covered in blood, recollecting his dream. He could almost feel the slimy blood running down his arms, smell the tang of the blood, mixed with caramel. He could feel the tingle of the whirring blade in his hands. He could feel his erection growing slightly at the thought. Maybe _he_ was right about it all. Every word that the other said to him convinced him more and more, and he found himself becoming more and more excited at the thought. He knew it would only be sooner or later...

 

They both simultaneously looked over to the sleeping Kristin and smiled.


End file.
